


Turn The Heat Up

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Humour, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 06:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7704358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wonky Cooling Charms result in interesting revelations</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn The Heat Up

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompts: hot, heated and burning.

The apartment was _blazing._

Ron moaned in abject misery as he flopped down on the leather couch— and of course, _of course_ it was bloody leather. He tugged at his collar yet again, trying to dispel some of the heat from the _inferno_ that was his best friend’s flat.

“Harry, how long is this going to take?” he demanded. “Can we just go to work already? I’m burning up over here!”

“For Godric’s sake, Ron!” Harry snapped, mopping his sweating brow for the hundredth time. “Do I look like I’m enjoying this? I know it’s hot in here, the Cooling Charms have been acting up.”

“So fix them!”

Harry slammed his coffee mug on the counter. “I recast the spells an hour ago,” he growled, not even bothering to hide his irritation. “It’ll cool off eventually, I can’t make it go any faster! If it bothers you that much, wait outside.”

Merlin, someone was in a _mood_ this morning. Not that Harry’s sour disposition wasn’t understandable. It was bad enough being stuck in a hot flat all day, but sharing it with Malfoy? Ron shuddered at the thought. He still didn’t understand just why or how those two had ended up living together, but according to Harry, Malfoy was actually decent these days. Ron figured he’d just take his word for it.

For now, all he cared about was getting out of the Fire Pit, so he busied himself with some leftovers from breakfast and patiently waited for Harry to grab his files.

“Harry…”

Oh, great. Speak of the devil and all that. Ron rolled his eyes as Malfoy shuffled out— shirtless and looking bloody miserable. His blond hair was plastered to his forehead and there was a sheen of sweat all over his body. His skin was flushed a heated red.

He looked like an over-steamed lobster.

Ron’s snort must have carried over because Malfoy whipped around to shoot him a poisonous glare. Fortunately, it was too bloody hot to be a prat— even for the Royal Pain in the Arse— and Malfoy promptly reverted to Harry.

“Harry, I can’t take it anymore,” Malfoy whined, shuffling closer and snagging Harry’s sleeve to get his attention. “I’m dying here. Can’t you fix it?”

Ron grinned gleefully. He sat up, eager to catch every moment of Harry flying off the handle and tearing into Malfoy.

“I know, Draco,” Harry murmured gently. He smiled and brushed Malfoy’s damp fringe back carefully. “I recast the spells. It should be back to normal soon, yeah?”

Ron’s jaw dropped.

“Okay,” Malfoy conceded, with a wan smile. “Sorry, I don’t mean to nag. I just…”

“It’s alright. I know it’s awful,” Harry said apologetically. “I’ll take care of it, yeah?”

“Oi!”

Ron couldn’t hold himself back. He glared indignantly as the two turned to him. “How come you tore into me for asking and _he_ gets a free pass?” he demanded.

Harry frowned at him. “Draco has a condition,” he retorted. “His skin is _very_ sensitive. Besides, he lives here so he’s had to put up with it a lot longer. He gets to whine if he wants to.”

“But…”

Ron sputtered in outrage at the sheer favouritism. Malfoy shot him a smug smirk.

“For Merlin’s sake, Ron,” Harry groaned. “It’s too hot to argue. Now, are you ready?” He turned to Malfoy, not waiting for Ron’s answer. “I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

“I’ll have dinner ready,” Malfoy promised, nudging Harry’s shoulder playfully.

Harry grinned and squeezed Malfoy’s arm. “Sounds good. See you then.”

And then, it happened.

It was only a second, maybe half. If Ron hadn’t been busy scowling at them, he would have missed it.

But he didn’t.

He saw it plain as day, as right _in front of him_ , Harry leaned in and _kissed_ Malfoy _on the lips_.

Ron gaped soundlessly.

Harry withdrew and started to walk away. Ron’s wide, unblinking eyes followed his retreating back until…

“Ron? Come on, we’re getting late.”

Ron blinked and followed dazedly, not entirely sure what had just transpired.

When he turned to shut the door behind him, he caught a glance of Malfoy. Malfoy, who was just standing there, wide-eyed and frozen solid, his hand hovering over his lips.

Apparently, Ron wasn’t the only one who hadn’t seen it coming.

Without a word, he shut the door and turned to follow Harry to the Apparition point.

They were about halfway to the stairs when Harry stopped in his tracks.

Ron halted beside him. _There it is,_ he thought.

Harry turned around very, very slowly. When he looked at Ron, his eyes were wide with horror.

“Did…did I just kiss my roommate goodbye?” he blurted.

“Um…”

“Oh Godric!” Harry’s hands went to clutch at his hair. _“Why_ did I do that?!”

* * *

 Not surprisingly, they didn’t make it to the DMLE that day.

Ron sighed and bought another pint of Firewhisky, only for Harry to chug it down like the last one. He sighed. At this rate, the Leaky Cauldron owed them a sizable discount for bulk purchases.

“It’s not that bad,” he attempted carefully.

Harry turned to him, looking utterly traumatised.

“I kissed him,” he hissed. “I kissed _Draco_ on the _lips.”_

Ron hid his grimace with a sip. “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask… what was that all about?”

“I don’t know,” Harry moaned, burying his face in his hands again. “It just…happened. Oh Merlin, what must he be thinking?”

“Let me see if I understand this,” Ron mused. “You’re worried about what Malfoy thinks? Not about the fact that you snogged him?” He snorted and helped himself to a sip of whisky. “Maybe the heat’s getting to you.”

“But…”

“Harry, I know you don’t want to hear it — and Merlin help me, I don’t want to say it— but I think you might have feelings for Malfoy.”

“What?” Harry barked. He shot up in his seat. “No! No, of course not! We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, friends who accidentally kiss each other without meaning to.”

“That…it doesn’t mean…”

“We’re friends, you and me,” Ron pointed out. “Shall I freshen my lip gloss?”

Harry outright shuddered at the thought— which was just fine, as far as Ron was concerned. At least he’d made his point.

“So, unless we’re claiming heatstroke, I think you and Malfoy might have a long talk in your future.”

“But I…and he…” Harry trailed off and slumped in his seat. “Even if I did feel that way, doesn’t mean Draco does.”

Ron’s thoughts went back to earlier that morning and what he’d seen— Malfoy going straight to Harry when he’d been hot and miserable, the casual touches and small smiles, the way Malfoy’s pointy face lit up when Harry smiled at him…

He thought about pointing it out, and then he thought better of it. Nothing good ever came out of getting between Harry and Malfoy.

“Just talk to him,” he told Harry instead. “And for Merlin’s sake, buy me another drink. I’ve had a long, strange day.”

* * *

 When Harry finally made it back—after having been pushed through the fireplace by Ron— he noticed that the Cooling Charms were working again.

He sighed in relief as the merciful, cool breeze wafted around him.

Of course, the heat was the least of his problems right now.

Harry swallowed audibly and took a step forward, wondering if he should call out for Draco or just wait for him.

As it happened, he didn’t get a chance to decide because Draco chose that exact moment to step out, still shirtless and towelling off his wet hair.

“Harry,” he blurted.

Draco’s eyes widened and he took a half step back. A slight blush rose to his cheeks and he averted his gaze shyly.

“You’re home,” he mumbled, looking everywhere but at Harry.

Harry’s gut clenched uncomfortably. He’d been so caught up in what he had done this morning, he hadn’t even considered how it must have made Draco feel. Was he uncomfortable? Disgusted? Was he angry or shocked or just plain horrified?

As much as he didn’t want to find out, Harry knew he had to fix this if they were to keep living together.

“Draco, I…I think we need to talk,” he managed.

Draco nodded but his jaw clenched and he fisted the towel in his hands. “Don’t bother,” he muttered. “I know what you’re going to say.”

“You do?” Harry swallowed audibly. Judging by Draco’s expression, it was clear he wasn’t looking forward to this talk either.

“Yes.” Draco took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “It was the heat.”

Harry gaped at him. “What?”

“You obviously suffered temporary heat-stroke,” Draco carried on with iron clad conviction. “It’s the only reason that explains your…your out of character actions this morning. It’s over and we don’t ever have to speak of it again.”

“Well, actually, that’s the thing. I’m not sure I…”

“Really Harry, it’s okay,” Draco cut him off. He was moving now, heading to the kitchen and rearranging a perfectly good set of mugs as he spoke. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I…I know we’re just friends.”

Harry stared helplessly, wondering what he could do or say to get through to Draco. He watched as his roommate hurtled about the kitchen, jaw tight and hands flying everywhere as he set plates and cups and spoons to right.

And then, he noticed it. The way Draco wouldn’t look at him, how downcast he seemed all of a sudden—like he was upset by something Harry had done.

Or _not_ done.

Oh.

A giddy sense of relief coursed through him and Harry grinned. Draco had his back to him now as he busied himself with the stove.

Harry was moving before he knew it.

His arms wrapped around Draco’s middle and he pulled gently. Draco stiffened in surprise, but he made no protests when his back hit Harry’s chest.

“You like me,” Harry noted. It wasn’t a question, just a statement.

“Yes,” Draco replied, with a waspish edge. “So? _You_ don’t so it doesn’t matter, does it?”

Harry chuckled and pressed a kiss to his nape. Draco squeaked in surprise and dropped a ladle.

“The heat’s gone,” Harry pointed out.

“You’re making a habit of stating the obvious,” Draco grumbled.

Harry pressed another kiss to his cheek. “The heat’s gone but I’m still here,” he elaborated.

Draco went perfectly still. Harry could almost hear the wheels turn in his head. Draco turned in his arms slowly, until hesitant, grey eyes were looking up at Harry.

“Really?” he asked, tilting his head a bit.

It was the most endearing thing Harry had ever seen— and a clear invitation, at that. So, he answered Draco the only way he knew how. He leaned in for a kiss, smiling when Draco met him eagerly. Those soft, full lips parted and Harry moaned and tightened his grip. Draco hummed in response, nipping at his lips shyly before breaking away.

“So,” he murmured, a smile playing on his lips as he gazed up at Harry, “what now?”

Harry chuckled and pulled him over again. “How about we take this to the bedroom,” he suggested, “and turn the heat up?”


End file.
